Caught
by Genim Stilinski
Summary: When Sam and Dean visit a gay club, things go awry. Sam/Dean Wincest. Angry!John.
1. Chapter 1

The Impala, dirty from the hunt, rolled up to the flashy building, appearing to belong in the mismatched assortment of cars and motorcycles parked outside. Word had it that this was the best gay bar in town, and Sam wouldn't leave without a visit. Dean needed a drink anyways, so at the request, he shrugged, and drove over. As an added bonus, he wouldn't have to pretend that he wasn't watching Sam when he bent over, licked his lips, ran his fingers through that soft, brown mop of his, and other things that really made his dick twitch.

Dean turned off the engine, and caught a quick look at his brother. He'd seen that face before, even if it was only a flicker. That face meant 'I'm nervous to be with you in public, even if it's okay to be'. Though it was Sam's idea, he still got a bit jumpy when they did things like this.

"You know, Sam," He ventured, sounding as casual as he could, "we don't have to go in if you don't want to."

"No!" He nearly jumped at the mere suggestion, "I mean…sorry. I do want to. I just have this weird gut feeling about it." Dean slid his hand across the bench seat to meet Sam's.

"You know I'm game for anything. We can go to another bar, or we can stay here. It's up to you." He knew that he never was the best long-time lover in the world, but being supportive of Sam was just something that came naturally. Teasing aside, he would never think any less of him if they left before even going in.

"It's alright, Dean. Let's just go in, before I change my mind." With that, the two front doors opened, as far as the tight parking spot would allow, and they slid out. The wind blew Sam's open jacket backwards, a sight that caused Dean to inhale sharply. His long hair swept backwards, far more delicately than his clothes, and time seemed to stand still.

"Hey, are you gonna keep standing there, or can we go in?" His brother's impatient tone held no real threat, but he nodded and moved on anyway.

They walked up to the doors, which showcased pink neon signs, telling the name of the bar, and that it was open. Sam pushed one of the deceivingly heavy doors open, and let his lover through first. The sights that greeted them were overwhelming. At the square shaped bar in the center of the room, leather clad gentlemen poured beverages for the patrons who sat there. At least half of the men in there were dressed similarly, whereas the rest ranged from normal day clothing to runway-chic. The large, open space was filled with small, two person tables, with the exception of the stage area. This included a short, small stage for karaoke night, and a decent sized dance floor for the rest. Couples were currently grinding to the hottest new dance mixes, or drinking varying colored liquids at the tables.

"So, Sam, whadda you wanna do first?"

Dean felt a tug on his hand, and found himself being dragged to the bar by his enthused lover.

* * *

John Winchester rolled into town in his big, black truck, hoping to catch his sons before they left town. It had been a while since he'd seen them last, and he had no leads on yellow-eyes to prevent him from taking a day or two off. The particular hunt that Dean and Sam had been working on came straight from the Roadhouse, so it wasn't difficult to figure out where they were. A simple chat with Ellen had told him that the boys were just a few towns over from where he was staying, and that they had finished their case a little while ago.

Thus, his first location was to the only motel in town. He pulled into the small, pothole covered parking lot, and into the spot closest to the office door. He rummaged through his fake id's to find one suitable, but remembering Ellen's mention that they were pretending to be fed's, decided it was best to go in without one.

When John stepped into the run-down, overheated motel office, a beautiful young woman, with golden hair and slate gray eyes, stepped out of the back room, and up to the counter.

"Can I help you, sir?" Her honey sweet voice surprised him.

"Yeah, actually, I'm looking for my son. He told me that he was here on business, and I thought I might visit."

"Alright," she walked over to the ancient looking computer in the corner, and turned back to him. "What's his name?"

"Well, he's a fed, so I don't know what name he uses as an alias these days. I do have a photo, though." He pulled out the most recent one he had of Sam (from his high school graduation) and handed it to the lady.

"Oh, yeah. He and his partner were staying in room 4, but they checked out about a half hour ago. They were, however, looking for a bar, since they were off duty. I told them about the two we have in town, which are both by the freeway. You might catch them there." He smiled, grateful that she was naïve and unsuspicious of a man asking about the location of a couple of 'feds'.

"Thanks." He left quickly, hoping that he might still catch them.

* * *

Sam and Dean brought their beers, and purple nurples, to a table towards the dance floor. They had a decent view of everything that was going on around the bar from there. The only thing they couldn't see was the door, which wasn't a big problem in a place like this. Sam downed his shot of violet booze, understanding why they appealed to his brother so much. The burn was satisfactory, and the taste was sweet. Dean followed suit, knocking his back with a wide grin on his face.

"I like this place, Sammy." He near giggled, despite the fact that he was still rather sober.

"Yeah, it's really neat." Despite his level tone, Dean knew he was enjoying this as much as he himself was.

Sam's long legs were partially folded under the table, but sitting without knocking into Dean was a challenge, thus he decided to give up, and stretch out so one leg was between Dean's, and the other was on the outside. His brother moved slightly, sensing the change in position. One of his knees gently knocked into Sam's.

"Uh, Sam?"

"Yeah."

"Is there any particular reason why your leg is now between mine?"

"Not enough room to scrunch up all evening."

"Ah." As much as he half hoped for the reason to be sexual, he understood. He also had difficulty keeping his legs in. So, he stretched out in a similar manner, causing both men to feel the closeness of knees to their crotches. The table simply wasn't big enough for them. Sam raised an eyebrow at him, and then gently rolled his hips forward, allowing Dean to feel his hard length on his knee.

"Damn, Sammy." He felt his jeans tighten, and he duplicated the movement as best as he could.

"You too, huh?" It wasn't so much a question as acknowledgement.

"Hey, I could really go for stretching my legs. Wanna dance?"

"I was wondering if you'd ask." A smile graced him as Dean stood, hand outstretched for him. He took it gladly, and allowed himself to be lead to the dance floor.

* * *

John stopped at the first bar he saw. It was a biker bar by the name of "Metalheads". He saw no hint of an impala anywhere, so he moved on. The other bar was directly across the street, and was a bit flashier than the first. He pulled in, and parked in one of the few available spots. Due to the low population in the town, he surmised that a lot of people took the freeway from out of town just to visit. He scanned the lot, eyeing every dark colored vehicle, until he spotted his baby. The impala was towards the front, and despite the dirt, looked to be in good condition. If he hadn't known where in the town they were hunting, though, that dirt would have earned Dean a smack upside the head. He stopped obsessing over the car when his eyes caught the neon signs on the door. They read:

Rainbow Pride Bar and Club

Open

His eyebrows jetted upward on his forehead as he realized what kind of bar his sons were at. There was no mistaking that this was their car parked here, so the realization that Sam and Dean were at a gay bar hit him like a sack of rock salt. He slid around to the solitary, darkened window on the side of the building, where he could clearly see the dance floor. He was unprepared for what he saw: both of his boys, dancing, _together._The song playing was slow and sexy, just what they were hoping for. Sam stood directly behind Dean, pressing against him as close as he could get, and holding his hips. Dean wrapped one of his arms back around his lover's neck, and placed his free hand on top of Sam's. They swayed to the music, feeling slightly dizzied by the sexuality of it. Dean moved his hips from side to side, effectively grinding his ass into his brother's length, which earned him a deep, husky moan. Several couples, and a few single men, watched from the tables in delight of the show. Sure, there were other couples dancing, but none quite like the Winchesters.

* * *

John slipped into the club, and into the opposite corner, where he could see his boys, but they could not see him. Not that they would have seen him anyways; they were to busy sexing each other up for the entire bar to see. And if it wasn't bad enough, they had to take it one step further.

Sam whispered the most delicious things into his lover's ear, causing Dean to bite back his moans.

"Once we've driven enough for tonight, and we check into a motel, I'm gonna take you so hard." He whispered, feeling Dean's body tremble. "And when I do, I want to hear you. I want to hear you moan, and scream. I want to know how good it feels when I hit that special spot in you." It was all too much to just listen and dance. He spun around in Sam's arms, and kissed him with a passion previously unknown. Some of the other men in the bar cheered, and some just watched in jealousy. And then there was John, fighting back anger and the need to gag as he watched.

When the two men realized how many people were watching, they decided it was a good time to leave. They abandoned their beers at the table, and slid through the crowd, hand in hand, to the heavy doors. As soon as the doors shut behind them, they opened again. Sam spun around to see who it was, and breathed the words "Oh, Shit!" at the sight of their father.

"'Oh, shit' is right, son!" Dean turned around, knowing full well who the voice belonged to.

"Dad, I can explain." John stood and awaited an answer. "Okay, no I can't."

"What the hell were the two of you doing? You're brothers!" Sam decided to answer then.

"We've been a hell of a lot more than that in our lives. Dean's never just been my brother." His calm was surprising, considering that it was he that always fought with their father.

"Then what has he been to you, Sam?" He stepped closer, invading his younger son's personal space.

"Well, let's see." He mocked, "Well, he took care of me like a parent, treated me like a best friend, and then, when we were old enough to realize what our feelings really were, we became lovers."

"What?" He stepped back, nauseated by what he was hearing.

"He said that we became lovers, as in, love you for the rest of my life type of thing." Dean's words cut through his father's resolution so swiftly that it became hard to be angry any longer.

"Dad, there have been times where Dean and I have been all that each other has had. He made me feel loved when no one else did." His voice was soft, as his father, and Dean, listened intently. "I am desperately, hopelessly, and eternally in love with Dean, and nothing you say or do can change that."

Both men before him looked positively stunned.

"I love you, Sammy" Dean stepped forward, and kissed him as gently as he could. He wrapped his arms around Sam's waist, and looked back to their father.

"So, Dad. Are you gonna be okay?" John looked woozy, which was uncommon for a hunter with nerves and a stomach of steel.

"I will be." He walked silently back to his truck, and drove off on the interstate.

"Do you think he'll want to see us again? I mean, he didn't find out exactly as we planned." Dan looked back to his brother, and responded.

"Yeah, he may be difficult now, but that was one hellofa speech you gave. He'll accept it eventually." And with that, they walked back to the impala, and rode off into the sunset.

The End

* * *

A/N: Reviews are love! The plot bunny bit me hard, so I wrote this all in one day. If you want another chapter of PWP to follow, where Sam follows through on what he says he will do, you gotta let me know. Thanks!


	2. Caught: The Sequel

Caught: The Sequel

A/N: Hey! Here's the sequel, as per request of Twinchester Angel, Ibbet, and BettyBoop73. It can be read as a stand alone, though. Special thanks to my beta, Little Miss Rosie, for looking it over so late at night so I could post!

* * *

They had only been on the interstate for 20 minutes, and Dean was already restless. Ever since they had left the gay bar in the last town, he'd felt the tightness of his jeans intensify. It had settled for a few moments when he knew that he and Sam had been found out by their father, but returned as soon as he was gone. It didn't take a genius to see that his fidgeting was due to the uncomfortable bulge in his pants. So, naturally, Sam knew. If that wasn't bad enough, he was caught between being incredibly turned on, and rather amused. Thus, he just sat there, trying not to comment.

"I know I usually like to drive longer, but can we stop soon?" He finally gave in. Sam continued to stare out the window.

"That eager to have me in you?" He sounded serious, but his reflection in the window betrayed him, as a smile slipped across his features.

"Hell yeah, Sammy. I really need it." His brother knew as well as he did that sex did wonders for him that even the best alcohol couldn't. So, he pulled off at the next exit, and searched for the nearest motel.

They pulled up to a place called "The Baby Bear Motel"; a series of small log cabins behind another bearing the sign, "office". Where as Dean usually got the room, Sam knew that, with the raging hard on his brother had, he would have to get it. He slid out of the passenger's side door, and walked in.

Meanwhile, Dean did his best to keep his hands firmly on the seat on either side of him. He knew that if he so much as grazed his crotch with the base of his hand, he would not be able to stop. He impatiently tapped his fingers, watching Sam through the window. The person behind the desk, the one his brother was talking to, was a beautiful young woman, but he couldn't be bothered to glance at her for more than a moment. After all, she did drop her pen off the counter, and the large window in the front really showcased Sam's ass as he bent over to pick it up. He did so slowly, and then looked back to Dean, telling him that it was all a show…just for him. That did little to help his restraint in the matter of his crotch.

A few minutes later, Sam came back out with a key, and handed it to Dean through the window.

"We're in cabin #6. I feel like walking," he leaned into Dean's ear for the next bit, "So when I get there, you better be naked." He pulled back, smiled deviously, and walked off.

Dean hurriedly shifted the Impala into 'reverse', backed out recklessly, put her in 'drive', and sped off to the sixth cabin. He was out the door as soon as he pulled the key out, and he just barely remembered to get their bags from the trunk. After all, the clothes weren't as important as the lube in his duffel. Not that he minded taking it dry every now and again.

He pulled both bags to the front door with him and fumbled with the key in the lock. Somehow, he just couldn't get in fast enough. In the distance, he could see that Sam was nearly half way there, and watching him with amusement. Then, the lock clicked, and the door fell open.

Dean shut the door behind him roughly, placing the bags on the dining table in the front corner of the room to search his bag. Once he found the golden ticket, that is, the tube of lube, he shrugged his jacket and over shirt from his shoulders. He placed the tube on the table, and pulled his bottom shirt over his head, throwing it unceremoniously to the floor. The buckle on his belt was difficult, but once it was undone, the jeans he was wearing fell to join his other garments. One last piece remained- his boxers.

It wasn't easy to avoid touching himself, or grazing the fabric over his oh-so-sensitive member, as he removed the cotton boxers from his body. He was careful, pulling the material out at the front, far past where his body extended to. Then, he heard the click of the door.

"Couldn't get undressed in time?" Sam slid his hands to rest over his lover's, which were still clamped tight over the hem of his undergarment. "I think that I may have to punish you for that." He whispered, sliding his hand to work the firm length beneath the fabric. Dean let his head fall back onto Sam's shoulder as he pressed back against him, trying to escape the hand.

"Sammy…" he moaned, "stop…I'm gonna come."

"Damn straight." He pressed harder, and rubbed up and down until he felt the warmth of Dean's spunk coat the inside of the unfortunate boxers. Dean bit his bottom lip, not giving him the satisfaction of a moan.

"I'm still gonna fuck you senseless, De." A whimper escaped the shorter man's lips as he felt his softening length grow hard again. Sam removed his hand from his lover's front to grab at the lube on the table.

"Get on the bed…on your back." He commanded roughly, pushing out of his own jacket. "And while I undress," He tossed the lube on the bed. "I want you to prep yourself." Dean snaked up the bed, fully aroused by his brother's domination.

Sam watched intently, while removing his own clothes, as Dean hesitantly squirted the lube onto his fingers. His nerves were evident, and understandable, as he had never fingered himself before. Nonetheless, he fell to his back, spread his legs, took a breath, and pressed a single digit all the way into his pretty pink hole.

"Uhhhh..." He moaned, arching his back into the bittersweet intrusion. He started to stroke, pushing and pulling his finger in and out. By this time, Sam was fully unclothed, and enjoying the show. Dean added another finger a bit sooner than Sam would have, but he took it like a pro. Granted, the angle of his body was awkward to be relaxing into his own fingers, but he was able to keep going. On the third swipe with his two fingers, he shot upward, pain and pleasure mixing to form the familiar sensation he knew to be the product of his prostrate.

"Oh, Dean…Fuck." Sam began to stroke himself at the sight, though holding the base of his dick firmly to keep from coming. Dean added a third finger, finding that he needed more. After a few moments, he just couldn't wait.

"Sammy, please." He groaned, thrusting wildly against his own hand. "I need you. I'm ready." Sam jumped onto the bed between his lover's legs, swatting his hand away. As soon as the area was clear, he lined himself up, and pressed all the way in with one fluidic movement.

"Ah! Fuck!" Dean gasped, rolling his head to the side. "Move, damnit!" He complied, setting a brutal pace with his rough, quick thrusts. He reveled in the warmth of his lover's body with each push, and savored the drag with each pull. Sam looked into those deep green eyes, full of love, covered with lust, and he knew, just as he always did, that they would always be able to trust one another like this.

Dean felt a slew of sensations rolling over him; each thrust sends him one step closer to the edge of oblivion, and yet, he has enough of his mind left to be able to convey with his eyes the unspoken 'I Love You'. Promptly after, he felt the warmth of his impending orgasm spread upwards on his body like flame. He was so close, just waiting for Sam.

Sam hit Dean's prostrate on every other stroke, eliciting wild moans and gasps from his lover. He was almost certain as he failed to keep his eyes open as he heard himself returning the noises. He quickened his pace, snapping his hips madly into his brother. He choked back a scream as he came, filling Dean with the heated evidence of his release.

Dean clenched down, pulling the last of Sam's orgasm out as he came. He, unlike Sam, couldn't contain the scream as it pushed out of his desperate mouth. For once, he was glad that they were in an isolated building, but still hoped that no one heard him. He didn't think on it long, as his love collapsed forward onto him. Dean promptly wrapped himself around the larger man, clinging to him with strength untypical of his usual afterglow lethargy.

Sam, who had yet to even pull out, allowed himself to become tangled up in his brother. He pressed his face into the nape of Dean's neck, and wrapped his arms around him on either side.

"I guess you don't wanna get cleaned up?" He asked, not really sure which answer he preferred, as the come began to dry between them.

"No, stay with me." He spoke in near whisper, momentarily tightening his grip to reinforce his plea. Sam relaxed, allowing himself to sink into his brother's arms.

"I love you, Dean. I always have, and I always will." He spoke in hushed tones, allowing the peaceful atmosphere to remain intact.

"I love you too, Sam." With that, they both drifted to sleep in one another's arms.


End file.
